Free Hugs
by TickingPocketWatches
Summary: Marco tried to make little conversations here and there hoping to help the time pass as they both waited for their ride. But to his dismay, the man would only ignore or perhaps pretend he didn't hear him. It never dampened Marco's spirits, of course, it just made him want to work harder on finding a way of brightening the grumpy young mans day. JeanXMarco Modern AU


Free Hugs

JeanXMarco

a Attack on Titan fic

by TickingPocketWatches

Just an AU I thought up a good while back. It's nothing to well thought out, I just had the ending in mind and went from there. Ha.:p I hope you enjoy!

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I do not own any of the characters, I don't make money from this story, all I own is this little fic.

Enjoy!

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Being optimistic isn't something that comes natural. Its something you aspire to, work for, something you lived with out and had to learn to make it work, or taste the sour dew each and every day.

Its hard.

But hard or not, you live that day like its your last, because you'll never have that day back again.

Treasure it.

For someone out there treasures you enough to go through many crappy days, but proves it all worth it, just to see you smile. Even if they don't personally know you. It's human nature to physically or mentally need to please someone. To make that one someone feel needed and loved. Because we hope someone else will treat us with that same kind of devotion and care as we did for them.

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The frayed ends of the navy blue scarf twisted and swayed to every direction the cold wind demanded. The frosted sun was soon to set beyond the busy city's sky. Leaving blurry dark paths of color in its departure.

Soft butterscotch eyes blinked away the nipping wind and stared down to the owners lap.

Marco wrapped his puffy, jacketed arms around himself and rubbed gently to cause a useless friction, that wouldn't reach his skin. It wasn't entirely freezing, but it wasn't by any means warm. He watched his hot fogging breath swirl around his numbing nose with mild interest. His bus should be coming soon. He crossed his arms hoping to keep as much heat locked in as he could. The more the sun set the colder it was becoming. He shivered away the tingle that tickled down his spine, and pulled his backpack closer to his side. The Bus Stops bench beginning to freeze along with everything else, including his backside.

He wished time would hurry up and just go by quicker. Letting the nice warm bus show up already. He sighed deeply, watching his steaming breath say farewell to him, once again.

His eyes drifted to the other side of the bench that wasn't currently occupied by anyone, but by his composition book. The wired ridge book was flipped to expose a sheet of written on paper that read. 'Free Hugs'

He smiled despite himself. It was rather silly, he knew, to have something like that written on his book and expect people to act on his gentle request. But silly or not, a few people actually did. It lift his spirits and he wondered, and hoped it did theirs too.

He was brought from his drifting thoughts, when the tapping of shoes woke him from his day dreaming. His eyes rose from the book he had been staring through to the young man standing a few feet away from the bench Marco was sitting on.

Marco smiled warmly through the darkening frosty air to the boy he had never learned the name of. Of course, he was greeted by a gruff snort and a tired sigh, as the two toned blonde searched his pockets for probably buss money. Marco met him nearly every ending day like this. Marco never would say he was much of a thinker, himself, but he did a whole lot of it when it came to the grumpy stranger.

He pondered mostly when his mind was set free to think about anything that needed thinking about. Of course this was mostly when he was working when the store wasn't busy, or at home in bed, unable to fall asleep. He would let his thoughts drift on what the young man was leaving from or what he was leaving to. He assumed he was getting off from school, since he wore a backpack. But then again, he carried one himself, carrying things he needed for work.

So, maybe not.

He figured it to be silly to think about someone he's never officially met, but he was the only thing that was interesting in his life. He was a mystery, and Marco had always been a fan of solving what ever made him wonder.

Either way, he'd probably never know. The man hardly spoke to him. Marco tried to make little conversations here and there hoping to help the time pass as they both waited for their ride. But to his dismay, the man would only ignore or perhaps pretend he didn't hear him. It never dampened Marco's spirits, of course, it just made him want to work harder on finding a way of brightening the grumpy young mans day. Which he was still working on to figure out. All the improvement Marco could say was that the man didn't stand quite so far away from him now. He slowly has been getting inches closer. That had to be worth counting as something, right?

One of Marco's gloved hands pulled back the other to look at his watch. It read 7:47.

Thirteen more minutes till his bus would arrive. He lowered his glove back over his wrist again and decided to try at the stubborn boy.

"Sure is getting colder, huh?" Marco waited a moment, just making sure he would actually reply. Of course, all he got was a reluctant 'ehmf' noise, which Marco took as an agreement.

"The days are getting shorter too. But thats ok with me, because I'm more of a night creature anyway." He smiled, as he looked over to the scowled face,- which Marco believes to just be his natural expression-, staring bleakly at his glowing cell phone screen.

Marco licked his chapped lips. He wasn't sure if he should continue to chatter amongst himself or not. He heard cases that some people were so caught up in there sad, bleak lives that they cant think of anything happy or believe that anything could be. So they treat everyone badly, without really meaning to. Maybe their just trying to call out for help, help to get out of the hole that they've been buried alive in.

Marco believed that's what happened to this boy, because if he was a student. He could possibly be stressed out by school, school work, work or something on the lines of that. Marco hadn't made it to collage himself, or to becoming a senior at grade school at that. So he wasn't too sure what it was like having the stresses of a collage student.

His Father left before he turned 16, leaving him and his sick mother alone. Marco liked to believe that it was for the best. His Father never was very good to his mother and rarely ever to him. It didn't mean he didn't miss his father, he just liked to try looking ahead positively. It could be pretty hard sometimes. That was kind of one of the reasons why he started his little 'Free Hugs' hobby.

A few weeks after his dad left, he dropped out of school, taking on two, to three jobs a week to pay off his mothers hospital bills. They barley made it, but thats better then not at all.

He knew it could be easy to fall in a hole himself and never want to be dug out either, but life doesn't wait for your bad days to end. You have to fight through them, no matter how useless it may seem.

He cleared his throat and spoke up again.

"Some people back at work, said that it's supposed to snow next week." He paused to take a deep breath of crisp air, letting it out slowly. "I hope it does."

Marco smiled over again to the radical haired boy.

The edges of Marco's mouth twitched. The young man wasn't staring at his phone now. His hands buried deep into his khaki's pockets. He glared down at his shoes, making no move to acknowledge Marco's presence, but maybe he was listening?

Marco continued anyway. " When I was little, my Momma would always say, that in the winter, it was the only time it snowed because it would get so cold, that the clouds would freeze and shatter into a billion little fluffy pieces." Marco chuckled, "I used to believe that for a really long time. Pretty silly, huh?"

Marco didn't wait for a reply, knowing he wouldn't get one. It was nice though. Just speaking his mind without being told to hush. He came to enjoy these moments with grumpy.

They both stayed quiet after that. The only noise was of Cranky shifting his heavy backpack from shoulder to shoulder or his phone softly buzzing every few minutes.

Marco offered many times before, if he wanted to sit by him and take a load off his back, but of course it ended in vain. Didn't mean it kept him from trying every now and then though.

At exactly 7:00. The buss pulled into the curb, leaving his ears vibrating from the running motor. Marco watched as the boy quickly made his way onto the buss. Not sparing a look behind him. He disappeared to the back of the nearly empty van. Taking a window seat for himself. He probably didn't use it though, staring down into the glowing screen the whole way, not being in tune of what goes on around him.

Marco payed, with a genuine delicate smile and made his way to the front of the buss. Leaving the boy with his fair amount of space. The doors on the buss slowly slid shut. The buss vibrated stronger, then rolled into life, back onto the street.

Marco sighed and snuggled deeper in on himself. The warmth of the heaters, heaven to his aching muscles. All he needed now was a nice mug of hot tea.

He let his eyes lazily sag as the van rocked him into a nice relaxing nap. He wanted to enjoy it while he could, before he got home and had to make supper. He let his thoughts carry away into a dream like reality, thinking about his earlier moments with his angry friend. Leaving all his worries and stresses at the back of his mind for the moment.

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A week had passed since that night, leaving every night after that pretty much the same as the first. The only difference was that Jean seemed to actually listen. Marco figured, the man was starting to get more comfortable with his presence and was subconsciously letting his wall slowly come undone brick by brick. Marco liked the thought of that, so he believed it as such.

That afternoon was just like every other when he had gotten to the bus stop. He wrote out his little 'Free Hugs' sign and happily laid it beside him. A couple older women that had been walking by were the first that day to acknowledge his little request and he was happy to make them smile.

The street lights were now glowing, even though the sun was still peeking its head over the horizon, leaving dusk blissfully peaceful and beautifully colored. His thoughts swam casually from work, to chores at home he was heading to do. His mother fell back into not doing well again, and the doctors weren't saying much, only that she had an appointment tomorrow. He was nervous and he prayed it was nothing to serious.

While his mind was else where, he was unaware as to who was walking up, until the all to familiar foot falls brought him from his train of thought and he smiled without realizing it. He turned his head and gave the two toned blonde his best smile. bit his cheek and looked to his feet. A frustrated expression taking over his features. Marco turned back around in his seat and worked his brain for todays conversation that wouldn't require the poor boy having to reply to much.

"I bet you had a long and tiresome day. Would you like to sit? There's plenty of room for both of us." Marco said kindly, but the man just shook his head, while eyeing his own feet. Even that small of a feat seemed to take a lot of effort. Maybe the man was just shy? Marco stored that tid bit of information to the back of his mind for later pondering. Marco's smile was soft on his lips, as he continued.

"I know its a long shot, but would you like a hug? Its free." Marco gestured to his little sign as he spoke. He chuckled gently at the face the man made when he had finished. He could of swore he even saw him blush.

"I thought not." Marco breathed, "Maybe next time, then."

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The following day was a Wednesday. A long, boring, middle of the weekdays Wednesday, full of headaches, and being forced around people. Lots of people. The weather was turning colder and the days were growing shorter.

To Jean, it didn't mean anything much to him. Work and school still went on at the same hours of the day, it just felt like he missed most of his days, being trapped inside. He owned a jacket or two, so it wasn't like the cold would kill him. He faced these simple obstacles with flying colors and moved on with his life. Just like he always did.

He growled as icy wind slapped him across the face, when he opened the glass doors to the Schools one of many exits. He flipped his jackets stiff collar up, to block at least some of the wind, then flung his backpack over his shoulder and toughed the weather.

School had been shitty, again, much not to his surprise. The tons of homework would go great with his nine hour shift tomorrow at work, he thought bitterly to himself. He wasn't even sure why he was putting himself through this living hell, then he remembered it was to get away from the city and get a good paying job. He hated the city. It was all just too much. Leaving meant leaving his family behind, but he didn't really have much of one to leave. He appreciated that they helped fund his school payment. He really did, but he couldn't help but think they did that, just to get him away from home. He was an accident child and his parents reminded him to many times for him to care recalling. It was all complicated. It was best to get out of their hair and on with his fresh young life.

He squinted as far as his eyes would slit, against the strong frigid breeze. His hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. The sun was still in the sky, but with the thick dark clouds layering over the vast above, you couldn't tell. His eyes were adjusting to the dark, so no problem.

He got out of school, about right on schedule, so he decided to grab a styrofoam cup of coffee on his way to the buss stop. He stopped at a tiny no-name diner and bought his hot liquid, that smelt too strong for it to be freshly brewed, like the counter girl said it was, and faced the outdoors once more. As he strolled pass a few other bodies, he flipped out his cell phone from his back pocket with his free hand and checked his mailbox, texting his childhood friends back. The trip didn't feel to take as long then.

When his surroundings became familiar around him, he walked over to the bench that, of course, had a certain body claiming it. He stood a few feet away, looking up from his phone to give the the dark haired boy a look that showed no certain emotion, which he was answered with a bright smile and a 'Good Afternoon.' Jean readjusted his backpack to a comfier position and looked back down to his phone with a simple 'Hey'.

He could feel the other boys eyes lingering for a moment on him, then turned to face the road. Jean breathed heavily through nostrils and pretended he was deep into the cyber world in his hand. He really needed to down load a game, so he could have something to do, when people tried to engage in small talk with him.

He didn't get why the kid tried so hard. No one tried to talk to Jean Kirschstein, if they know whats good for them. Its not that he's a mean person, he's just never been socially acceptable. He didn't know how to talk to people, and when he tried, it never ended with many friends. He was too blunt for his own good.

He was brought from his bleak thoughts to a hopeful voice he came to name as Bench Boy. The kid had introduced himself a while back, but Jean couldn't remember what his name was and wasn't going to ask either. He sighed and put more effort into pretending to play cell phone, when he felt those eyes on him again.

"A lady at work today had to go home early, because her baby at daycare apparently has the stomach flu thats been going around." Bench boy stopped for a moment to blow hot air into his mittened hands.

Jean chewed idly on his cheek, wondering where he was going this time with his random conversation.

"I'm sure glad I haven't got it." He paused, "I'll get it now, since I work with her nearly everyday." He chuckles gently. Jean finally looks up from his phone to stare at the street. Looking at nothing in particular.

"I'd hate to bring such a awful thing back to my mom."

Jean sighs quietly, while listening. He couldn't hear that well from the wind smearing Bench Boys words, so he takes a few more steps closer to the bench. The guy doesn't seem to notice.

"My moms already sick enough, as is."

Jean puts his phone away and lowers his brow at the caramel eyed boys humorless chuckle. Jeans eyes flash over to see him shriveling up in his seat, with arms wrapping around his sides, almost looking as if he was hugging himself.

"With how the weather's been changing. She's not been handling the moisture and clammy air very well. Ive been keeping the house as warm as possible, but it doesn't seem to make a difference." The boy sighs in defeat.

Jean is almost uneasy at the mood. He can't think of a time the guy was this gloomy.

To jeans surprise, the conversation ended abruptly. Bench boy stayed quiet after that.

Jean was actually shocked. It was the first time, he didn't know how the guys whole day went, he didn't ask if he would like to sit beside him, he didn't say in a high happy tone, if he needed a hug today... Nothing! It was strange and he didn't know how to handle it. It left Jean filling empty.

Clenching his jaw, he swallowed hard. He knew he should probably say something to make him feel better, but he didn't now what to say. He wasn't sure what he should do, So when the bus arrived on time. He quickly slipped by the boy and made his way onto the bus, to the very back, where he sat feeling like a complete douche.

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The next day was cloudy and looked like it held the promise of rain. Jean sighed tiredly as he checked out of work for the night, the day lasting much longer then it normally seemed.

As he was walking out the door, some of his co-workers waved him good bye with tired smiles, which he threw his hand up without looking back, and grunted a 'Later'. The street lamps were glowing as he walked down the side walk. The few lone standing tree's shook as the indecisive wind swirled in circles. Jean blinked repeatedly, hoping to wake himself up. He couldn't wait to get home, finish up his home work and call it a day. The walk was lonely, as there were no one on the street. He wanted to grab some coffee or something to eat, but he decided he could warm something up when he got back to his apartment.

He wondered how Freckles mom was doing. Ever since he said she wasn't doing to hot yesterday, it had his mind constantly questioning her recovery. He told himself it didn't matter, that it wasn't any of his business, but no matter how many times he reminded himself, he couldn't fight the worrying thoughts.

Jean wasn't sure why he cared. Maybe it was that he hadn't that much feelings for his own family. He wondered what it must be like to care and love a family member the way Bench boy did.

He coughed and shook his head, trying to rid the building thoughts from his mind. He was about to be at the buss stop in a few seconds. The guy would most likely update him on his daily adventure today, maybe.

As Jean took the curve, he was greeted by an empty seat and a strange emptiness in his chest.

He walked up to the bench, then looked around.

He was...alone? Thats strange. The kid always beat him here. He looked to his watch.

7:52

Jean swallowed, with wrinkled brows. He looked around once more, then leaned against the back of the bench and waited in silence for his ride. Not knowing what to think.

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For nearly a week, the bench was Freckle free, and Jean was starting to get really antsy from it. Where was the kid at? Did he move? New job that required a different way of getting home? He didn't know.

He never aloud would admit it, but he was a little upset by his disappearance. He wasn't too crazy about using the word lonely, but it was feeling something akin to that. He didn't realize how much he'd miss the five minutes of such simple moments.

No one talked to him the way he did.

Almost like he really did care how he was feeling or if his day was going well. He missed it and wished he hadn't taken advantage of it, and actually got to know the boy, but dwelling on the past wasn't going to help.

All he knew, was that he wanted to know where he went.

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By day eight, Jean convinced himself to move on. It wasn't much to move on from, considering he never really spoke to the kid, but he went on about it anyway. It finally gotten through his thick skull that the boy was gone. He just felt sorry for his coworkers and classmates, for he knew he was Satan himself as of right now. Every little thing pissed him off, and nothing brightened his mood. It was finally about time people stopped asking him what was wrong and learned to leave him alone. He felt bad for being such an ass, but whatever.

He did have a brighter note to his crappy week. Fall brake was finally kind enough to let him free from school. Now he could focus more on work, instead of homework taking every last ounce of his brain power and time. Yippee.

He, for the last time until school started up again, walked to the bus stop. He had no plans as of heading back home to stay with his family for the holidays. They never called him, so he supposed they didn't care enough to ask. Oh well.

With a sigh in his breath, he walked around the curve that was cornered by a small bakery. He wondered why he never stopped there before. He hadn't thought of it till now. He was always so fixed on getting home, it never crossed his mind.

As he walked around the small building, he decided to turn around and head back to grab something to take home with him. He figured why not? He wasn't in any hurry to get home now.

He was in the midst of turning on his hills, when he caught a glimpse of a familiar dark haired boy on the bench. His breath caught in his throat. A part of him wanted to see if it was Bench Boy, and the other part told him he was an idiot.

In the end, curiosity got the better of him. He walked with quiet steps to the small bench, his supper forgotten. The sky was soft grey with ripples of dirty pink, mixed with building rain clouds. A beautiful sunset for this time of year. He wasn't sure why he noticed this tiny detail, but he couldn't keep from it. The body sitting on the bench was becoming clearer the closer he got. With an odd feeling setting in his chest, he stood about three yards away, before he stopped. It definitely was him.

Jean felt a bit of relief lift from his shoulders and a small smile taint his frown. He stood for about a half of minute without the boy greeting him like he normally did. Jean frowned as he leaned from one foot to the other. By the time one minute came rolling slowly around, he cleared his throat, hoping to gain the guys attention.

Nothing.

Jean was starting to get pissed by this moment now. Why was he ignoring him? He took a few long strides closer with his brow wrinkled from constant natural scowls. He stopped just off to the side of the bench and stood without anything to say. He looked down and noticed the usual composition book that read 'Free Hugs' was no where to be seen.

The boy still hadn't noticed that he was there, and Jean was starting to think something bad must of happened. His earlier anger dissipated when the boy focused his stare to the street with tears streaming down his face, his nose glowing red, from constant rubbing.

Jean swallowed thickly. He wasn't sure what to do. What do you do when someones crying? Normally he'd ignore it, but that didn't sound like the perfect answer he was looking definitely didn't want a reenactment from last week, which he still felt guilty for.

He shifted his backpack from off his shoulder to the ground and carefully sat on the bench. A two foot gap separating them.

When the decorative metals on Jeans pants hit the steel bench, did it finally wake Marco from his thoughts.

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Marco had been sitting there since he was let off from work about an hour ago. He was clearly not in the real world and was constantly making mistakes at work. His Manager, the kind man he was, let Marco go home early. Told him to get some rest and that he would see him Monday. Marco tried to disagree, saying he was just fine, but he, himself, knew better and just let his boss win in the end. It's been two days since his mothers funeral and four since she passed. The war finally over from years of fighting Cancer. It all seemed so unreal. He didn't want it to be real. He wanted to hop on the buss and go home to be greeted by her smiling face like he always did. Now he didn't want to. It hurt to much to even think about going into his hollow home. He didn't want to be alone. It scared him too much.

So now here he was. Not knowing what to do next. It was so hard to think of the future when you were stuck in the moment. How do you move on when your loved ones can't? It was scary.

He hadn't realized he was crying, till he felt a slight weight hit his gloved hand. At first he thought it was rain, but when he rolled his eyes to look, did he notice his eyes were blurry with tears. He sniffed and rubbed at them, but didn't care to stop them. He was alone with no one around, so it didn't matter.

He jumped when a rather loud clanking noise beside him, jolted him from his thoughts. He quickly turned his head to his left to see a really uncomfortable two toned haired boy sitting a couple feet from him. He stared straight a head. The muscles in his neck strained from his jaw tightly clenched. He seemed to be contemplating something intensely.

When the blonde felt eyes on him, he turned to briefly meet eyes with Marco's caramel ones. Marco looked away and quickly rubbed away the spilling tears.

Marco felt terrible. He always tried to be optimistic for this man. He wanted to be the one to let him know everything was going to be okay. No matter how hard life seemed.

Now here he was, sobbing on a bench, making everyones day miserable and gloom. He didn't want to be that guy. He wanted to be the one to make everyone smile, even on the worst of days. To help them in the direction of happiness, to think of the positives in the negatives. How could he let him down.

The stream of tears were becoming worse the harder he tried to stop them. He wished he could just disappear.

His thoughts went numb, when he felt something warm touch his hand that laid stagnant in his lap, for just a moment. The minor distraction was enough for his tears to slow just enough for his eyes to slightly clear. He sniffed louder then he meant to, then looked down to where he felt the comforting warmth.

A small crinkled paper was laying innocently in his mittened hand. He had to blink a few times before he could clearly read the tiny chicken scratch on it. When he finally could, his heart ached and his sobs became louder as he nodded his head as he bit his lip painfully. Jean swallowed back all that made him uncomfortable and wrapped his arms around the other body that gently smashed into his. They stayed like that, jean silently rocking the other boy gently in his arms, whispering a few words he wasn't sure would make him feel better to say or not.

The bus came and gone, but Jean knew it would be back again soon.

Marco cried till his lungs begged for rest. His red eyes finally stopping the flow. Just leaving him sniffing and snubbing in its wake. He didn't want to move, he just wanted to stay where he was just a little longer, or until the stranger let him go first. But they didn't move long into the night. Neither one noticing the cold with each others warmth wrapped securely around them, with the little crinkled note held tightly in Marco's hand that read 'Hug?'

~End~

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You made it through to the end! Congrats! I hope you enjoyed it. I know there may be mistakes. I only read through it twice. I couldn't stand to look at it any longer. haha But if you see something that REALLY needs to be fixed, I would really appreciate it if you PM me! :) Thanks again!


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